


Such Sweet Nothing

by pleasanthell



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasanthell/pseuds/pleasanthell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You finish off whatever you were drinking that was in this blue plastic cup and toss it onto the lawn. It’s not like the Frat guys will really notice anyway with all the shit on their front lawn. You pick up your purse and pull out your keys.</p>
<p>You feel them being plucked out of your hand and look down at the shorter girl in front of you, “Berry,” you growl, “Give me my keys.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Such Sweet Nothing

“Santana, stop it,” she whines.

"What the fuck do you care?" She probably doesn’t care anyway. You walk around her and down the sidewalk.

“Santana!” she yells. “Why are you doing this?!” She scrambles to get between you and your car.

You finish off whatever you were drinking that was in this blue plastic cup and toss it onto the lawn. It’s not like the Frat guys will really notice anyway with all the shit on their front lawn. You pick up your purse and pull out your keys.

You feel them being plucked out of your hand and look down at the shorter girl in front of you, “Berry,” you growl, “Give me my keys.”

“You’re not driving,” she states, defiantly, “I will drive you home.”

“I’m not drunk,” you step toward her, getting into her face.

Rachel narrows her eyes, “You made out with three guys.”

You take a moment to try to remember that. Today, you got some news that made you sick. Then you got dressed in your skin tight finest all the while trying to quell the whirling in your ears. Then you started drinking. You guess you might actually be drunk.

“Fine,” you say quietly and open the passenger door to your car. “Drive me home.”

You can hear her relieved sigh and see her walk around your car to the backseat.

She has to move the seat up so that she can reach the pedals. You drop your purse in the floorboard and lean back in your seat. Your car turns over, but Rachel doesn’t make a move to drive it. “Seatbelt please.” She says instead.

You roll your eyes, but do it anyway.

Then she takes off. There’s nothing for you to do, but lean on the car door and feel sorry for yourself.

“What are you doing here?” you ask her. You was sure someone spiked your drink when you saw Rachel show up at the frat party you decided to lose yourself in.

“Quinn told me…the news,” Rachel sighs. “She wanted to come down here, but she has a huge test coming up so she paid for me to fly here. She said you’d be trying to drown yourself. I didn’t know what she meant until now.”

“Of course, she’s right. She’s always fucking right,” you get angry, “Because she’s fucking perfect.”

Rachel reaches over and takes your hand, resting them on the console between you, “I understand that you’re upset. I think we’re all extremely upset, but drinking yourself into oblivion and then getting into an accident because you wanted to drive home, isn’t going to help anything.”

“I don’t want to help anything,” you look at your joined hands, but don’t make a move to take your hand back. “I want to hurt everything.”

She gently squeezes your hand, “I know. I get it.”

“Oh really?” you bite back.

“Maybe not completely,” Rachel backs down, “I’m sure that I’ve never seen anyone love anyone else as ferociously as you love Brittany.”

You swallow. “I don’t want to love her anymore.” You get choked up and tears sting your eyes. You’ve been drinking so you don’t cry. You don’t want to cry. Crying means that it’s real.

“Oh sweetie,” Rachel sighs sympathetically. She stops in front of your apartment and turns in her seat to look at you.

You don’t want her sympathy. You jerk your hand away and get out of the car. You stalk up the stairs, holding onto the railing, to your apartment with Rachel trotting behind you. When you get to your door, you realize that Rachel has your keys so you step to the side.

When she unlocks the door, you walk straight into your bedroom. Then you stop dead. You stare at the bed. It’s the same bed that you and Brittany had shared more times than you can counts. It’s probably in the thousands. You turn around and bump into Rachel who is walking in behind you.

“I can’t stay here,” you mumble.

Rachel looks at your room. She undoubtedly sees all the pictures of your and Brittany everywhere and may even realize what had happened in that same bed that you moved with you to Kentucky.

“Okay,” Rachel says softly, “I’ll get your some clothes and we’ll go to my hotel.”

You don’t say anything back. You stand outside your apartment while Rachel gets some of your things. Then you get into your car. You watch Rachel start the car and after she pulls out of the parking lot, you take her hand. You just need to touch someone. You need to know that someone is there.

She offers you a tiny smile before holding your hand more firmly.

She’s staying at a decent hotel and when you finally sit down on the bed, you feel the tears overwhelm you. You can’t fight them anymore.

Rachel sits next to you and puts her arms around you. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

You can’t breathe. Your chest feels like it’s being crushed. You don’t know if you ever even want to breathe again.

“C’mon,” Rachel tugs you up the bed and gets you to lay down. Then she takes your boots off and then pulls off your coat. She turns off the lights and lays down next to you. You immediately move to her and she doesn’t hesitate to wrap you in a fierce hug.

“It’ll be okay,” she tells you.

“How is it going to be okay?” you attempt to fight, but it comes out weak.

She pauses, “It’ll be okay because you’re smart and beautiful and talented. You’ll make it okay. It doesn’t have to be tonight or anytime soon, but you’re strong Santana and you’ll make it okay.”

You sniffle, feeling the hot tears ruin your makeup. “It just… I can’t breathe. I always thought that…I was so stupid.”

“You did what you thought was right,” she states. You feel her lips press into your hair and freeze. It’s such an intimate gesture. No one has ever done that to you before except… except Brittany.

You swallow and pull away from Rachel. It’s enough to see her face in the dim glow of the digital clock on the nightstand. Everything on her face reads panicked. Except her eyes. Her eyes are warm and they… they make you feel like you’re…Before you even realize what you’re doing, your lips smash against Rachel’s.

Her arms around you grow loose for a few seconds before she kisses you back just as frantically as you’re kissing her. Her free hand moves to the curve of your hip, pressing into your skin to pull you closer. When you’re bodies meet, pressed hard against each other, you moan.

She surprises you by rolling on top of you. She has one hand on the bed to support herself while the other hand pushes up your shirt. When she can’t push it up anymore with her single hand, she straddles your thighs and pushes up on her knees. Your lips leave each other for only a second while she rips your shirt off over your head.

Any other time it might strike you as funny that Rachel Berry is now kissing your neck, leaving small nips and setting your skin on fire, but right now all you feel is the need to be with her and the strange sensation that everything about it feels right.

You close your eyes when she kisses around the boarder of your bra. Your left hand dives into her silky hair and you try not to pull her hair when she does something with her insanely talented mouth that feels amazing. Her hands are teasing the top of your pants, her thumbs occasionally dipping below the top of the tights you wore to the party.

“More,” you moan and pull at her shirt. She moves so that you can pull it over her head. You find that she’s not wearing a bra.

She pauses, looming over you. For a moment she looks self-conscious. You don’t want this to stop because when her lips are on you, there’s nothing else in your mind and you need that. You push up on your elbows and kiss her again. You murmur, “So sexy,” against her lips.

Her hands start moving again, this time one of her hands doesn’t hesitate to dive right into your tights. You fall back onto the mattress with a gasp as she moves her fingers in ways that make you sure this isn’t her first time with a woman.

You think you hear her growl when she can’t get to your breasts. She pulls your bra off with one hand as her fingers start to work in and out of you. And when her lips wrap around your nipple, you see stars.

True to her over-achieving ways, you experience more orgasms than you can count that night. You manage to get her off a few times, but she seems like a woman possessed whose only purpose is to pleasure you in any way she can.

And she doesn’t just roll over when you’re finished. She wraps you in her arms, holding you protectively against the night. She pulls the blankets up over you and kisses your hairline. “Sweet dreams, Santana.”

“Goodnight, Rach,” you whisper back.

You can’t really explain what just happened, but you’re not going to overthink it. You feel safe in Rachel’s arms. You feel content with your head on her bare chest. You drop a wayward kiss against the skin over her collarbone and close your eyes, letting exhaustion overtake you.


End file.
